Tag: existential

  • Laments in Oblivion

    Laments in Oblivion

    Laments in oblivion faded away like ephemeral tears,
    Becoming crystal gems caught in the night’s dark mirror,
    Where dreams lingered, fragile, on fleeting gusts of wind,
    And relinquished fragments of hope were bound to a silent death eternally.

    Darkness reigned over the realm of light;
    No eternal flame granted lasting life,
    While sorrow bled from noiseless abysses,
    Where forgotten hearts wept in silence and despair.

    The moon’s cruel glow was a mournful gaze,
    Illuminating all that was forsaken, lost in haze.
    Each tear became a star, each sigh a spark,
    Vanishing gently into the infinite dark.

    Spectres swung on a temporal precipice;
    Memories tarnished, turned into mere dusted rhymes.
    Radiant longings became dimmed and pale,
    And, in the chasms of silence, unveiled their tales.

    Ethereal glares and gentle cries of dismay—
    They belonged to the realm of stupor.
    Laments in oblivion were the only vestiges that lasted when remembrances died,
    Tormenting dreams beneath the moonlit skies.

    Dark clouds moved sombre and ominous,
    Crossing skies that never encountered vexation.
    Wanderers hovered among the glooms,
    Guided by phantoms in slumber and reverie.

    Sorrow and delight entwined together,
    In a languor that let the desolate trees weep.
    Lovelorn, broken hearts, once blazing and bright,
    Danced their last waltz in the smothering night.

    Faint glimmers flickered and swiftly withdrew,
    As the night devoured, each spectral hue.
    Memories withered like extinguished flames,
    Leaving only the ash of forgotten names.

    The stars lay imprisoned within the abyss of nothingness,
    Bound by eternity’s sorrowful plight.
    Clinging to remnants of fading light,
    Such glimmers dissolved into shadows in a deathly sleep.

    Laments in oblivion were consumed by the night,
    Hidden in shadows, beyond all light.
    Gone to silence, lost to the night,
    Drifting softly from mortal sight.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Endless Grief

    The Endless Grief

    The endless grief, born in the deepest shadows,
    Where sorrow grew, and demons crept.
    A silence dazed the eerie aura,
    A weight too much for hearts to bear.

    The rain fell cold, the sky was bleak,
    The soul became frail and the mind weak.
    A distant toll of bells transformed into a choir of cries,
    A dirge for those who dared to wander too far away.

    The endless road of mourning winds,
    Through shattered hopes and twisted desires.
    No company was found, nor voices to be heard,
    Just endless grief that claimed every living creature.

    The endless grief, a cursed refrain,
    A perpetual march through infinite pain.
    The night devoured the light of day,
    And dragged the hearts to slow decay.

    A castle cold, where shadows reigned,
    Sighs echoed in darkened walls.
    A labyrinth with thorns and tendrils of dread,
    Each path was a step closer to the death.

    The stars looked down with a hollow stare,
    Like frozen orbs that did not care.
    Their pale light painted the soil in frost,
    As every entity was bound and lost.

    The endless grief betrayed like a lover’s kiss,
    A poisoned embrace that none could ever be missed.
    It held hearts, it gripped souls,
    It swallowed whole all that was taken under control.

    In twisted woods where no life could have prospered,
    The path led where the cold wind blew.
    The trees, they moaned, their branches writhed,
    Beneath the sky where stars didn’t thrive.

    The river flew with quiet dread,
    A blackened stream for the living dead.
    Its waters whispered as they ran,
    A mournful hymn for what had begun.

    The endless grief, a heavy shroud,
    A curse that lingered like a minacious cloud.
    No dawn would have broken, no sun would have risen,
    No delight could have been born beneath these unlimited skies.

    The realm itself became a monument of stone,
    A place where nothing could make sense.
    The ground would have swallowed every shadow,
    And still, the grief remained the same.

    The endless grief never ended and never will,
    Through disfigured dreams, it wends and bends.
    It buries deep, it scars souls,
    A fate that no one can control at all.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • On The Verge Of Doom

    On The Verge Of Doom

    On the verge of doom, where shadows cling,
    Beneath the endless skies of decay, no light to show.
    A land of sighs and tears breathes its last, steeped in dread,
    As night consumes, the sun leaves all hopes dead.

    The scent of oppression pervades with shadows of despair,
    Each dream becomes an illusion as the world lies broken.
    The trees stand twisted, their branches bare,
    Grasping at the stars as if seeking solace unspoken.

    On the verge of doom, the silence reigns,
    A haunting emptiness of forgotten pains.
    The moon hangs dim, a spectre in the night,
    Casting ghostly glimmers, a wicked light.

    Raindrops fade softly along the cobbled lane,
    Where memories linger, steeped in anguish and pain.
    The castle looms, its towers cracked and worn,
    A sentinel of sorrow, where dreams are torn.

    On the verge of doom, in chambers adorned,
    With dust and despair, wraiths of phantoms curl.
    They beckon with tales of those lost to time,
    Of loves that withered, of life’s cruel rhyme.

    Hope strives to cling tenaciously to the edge of the night,
    A flicker, a spark, in the grip of the fright.
    But darkness devours, as it always has done and always will,
    And on the verge of doom, all battles are worthless.

    On the verge of doom, the silence hangs heavy,
    Darkness creeps upon all realms, its grip tightening fast.
    Desire turns to ashes, consumed by the keeper,
    In this hollow silence, all dreams are betrayed.

    In the echoes of silence, in the depth of the gloom,
    Lies the haunting refrain of impending doom.
    Among the shadows where the weary hearts dwell,
    Forever entwined in the web of the invisible.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • Delving into the Darkness

    Delving into the Darkness

    Delving into the darkness, where shadows twist and writhe,
    A step beyond the threshold, a journey far from light.
    The whispers of the void grew louder, filled with grief,
    A world devoid of hope, where none could find relief.

    Once, there was a spark of life, a flame that dared to burn,
    But here, in this forgotten place, all flames refuse to return.
    The walls of night drew closer still, their cold embrace suffused,
    And in the pit of nothingness, my soul became unloosed.

    Delving into the darkness, the air turned full of dread,
    Each breath a hollow gasp, the weight of dreams long dead.
    The earth beneath my feet felt cold, a tomb of silent stone,
    The echoes of my footsteps—whispers of the unknown.

    No cries were left to utter, no tear to break the gloom,
    I merged with every shadow, a phantom of the vault.
    The ground no longer held me firm, nor the sky above my head,
    For in this void, I ceased to be—the living, now the dead.

    Delving into the darkness, all senses were soon lost,
    Time stretched into infinity at an unfathomable cost.
    The shell that once embraced my warmth was now cold, fragile, racked,
    The spirit that defined my being faded, lost, and sacked.

    A figure of a forgotten entity, I wandered through the shade,
    My name, my face, my history, all memories decayed.
    The world beyond had faded, its contours out of sight,
    And in this endless chasm, I vanished from the light.

    Delving into the darkness until there’s nothing more,
    A silhouette upon the void, unseen by any shore.
    I am the night, the silence, the fear within your chest,
    A remnant of a world erased, an eternal, restless guest.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Silent Sacrifice

    The Silent Sacrifice

    The silent sacrifice, where shadows twisted and leered,
    A gate once opened wide, was now rusted with fear.
    Each thought, a fading echo lost in hollow cries,
    Smothered beneath the weight of ghostly, vacant eyes.

    Where souls once burned with fire, bold and bright,
    Now hollow figures drifted, swallowed by the night.
    The spirit was torn, like whispers in the wind,
    The mind was erased, and darkness slowly grinned.

    The path of silence was tread with heads bowed low,
    Beneath a sky where nameless terrors grew.
    Chained by ignorance, shuffling, cold and blind,
    Praising the curse that poisoned every mind.

    The brave were buried in the dust of old,
    Their cries were drowned out by voices shrill and cold.
    Hatred, now a king, wore shadows like a crown,
    Its reign of terror pulled all down.

    The silent sacrifice, where minds were cast aside,
    By hands unseen, dragged to the depths to hide.
    Shunning the light that once pierced through the veil,
    Wandering lost in nightmares, pale and frail.

    No longer did the flame of thought remain,
    For in its place, a spectre gripped the chain.
    Kneeling before the lies that clawed the sky,
    Watching as reason’s flicker slowly died.

    In lands where shadows choked the very air,
    What use was thought? The soul lay stripped and bare.
    The heart was but a phantom, cold and still,
    As darkness whispered, bending to its will.

    Ignorance reigned, hatred wove its web,
    Those who were thought were dragged among the dead.
    Since, in the end, the self had faded away,
    As shadows rose to claim their endless prey.

    Thus died the self, the silent sacrifice,
    In ignorance, the final price was paid.
    Hatred ruled where light no longer dared to tread,
    And the living soul was numbered with the dead.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Distant Light

    The Distant Light

    The Distant Light
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    The distant light danced on the edge of sight,
    Just beyond reach, just out of grasp.
    Steps grew weary in the endless night,
    Hope a fragile, fleeting clasp.

    It wavered like a ghostly flame,
    Teasing those who sought its glow,
    Led them through a darkened frame—
    A journey where shadows flowed.

    The distant light flickered in a fractured motion,
    A beacon in the void of night,
    Its promise, a fleeting trance,
    Drew seekers with its might.

    Each step became an endless strain,
    As the light stayed a phantom’s tease,
    Shadows stretched across the plain,
    Sapped strength, stole ease.

    It cast its lure, a wavering beam,
    Guided through a twisted maze—
    A dream of light, a distant gleam,
    Faded with the morning rays.

    In the end, the distant light stayed afar,
    A glimmer in the vast expanse—
    Shifted like a shooting star,
    Left shadows in its dance.

    The distant light remained a guide,
    A symbol of hopes untold,
    Led those who sought with pride
    To where stories unfolded.

    Yet every seeker, with weary steps,
    Found only relics of the light—
    A fleeting longing in the endless sweep
    Of darkness that devoured the night.

    They chased that light through valleys deep,
    Through mountains steep and vast oceans,
    But each pursuit was met with slumber,
    Where ghouls mocked the seekers’ stride.

    Some turned back, their strength undone,
    By the weight of dreams unrealised.
    Others pressed on toward the sun,
    Their hearts filled with fire, yet their eyes were disguised.

    The distant light, a siren’s call,
    Drew them close, then farther still.
    Through winding paths and towering walls,
    It beckoned with an iron will.

    It whispered promises in the cold blizzard,
    Of realms untouched by grief and woe—
    Of restful nights and peaceful seas,
    Where weary spirits might one day go.

    But every promise led to nought,
    As the light played tricks on eager minds.
    What once was found was soon forgotten,
    In a labyrinth of endless signs.

    The distant light became a hymn,
    Descanted by the wind, carried by dreams,
    An encomium of hope that lingered long,
    In the hearts of those lost in its gleam.

    Still, they chased, though hope grew thin,
    Through dense forests and deserts,
    Believed in the light within—
    A dream that never seemed to die.

    But in the end, the light vanished in the darkness,
    A ghostly wisp, a fleeting flame,
    A memory that could not be tamed,
    A distant star without a name.

    The distant light would never become
    A guide for those who dared to dream—
    Just a memory of a fainted beacon in eternity,
    That flickered in the unseen stream of imagination.

  • Secret Longings

    Secret Longings

    Secret Longings
    by Esther Elizabeth Racah

    In shadows deep where silence reigned,
    I wandered once, with hopes long feigned.
    My heart, a vault of secret fires,
    Bore dreams that time and grief conspired.
    A whisper lost within the night,
    I sought the stars’ elusive light.
    But every step, though soft and slow,
    Led further from what I would know.

    The walls of time grew thick with dread,
    Encasing all that once was said.
    Beneath the luminaries, a ghostly plea,
    I carved my name on a memory tree.
    Yet winds would blow, and dust would rise,
    To hide the truths behind my eyes.
    A gaze that lingered, filled with thirst,
    But never quenched, forever cursed.

    For there, within the hidden keep,
    Where shadows walked, and spirits wept,
    I found the longing, dark and cold,
    A hunger profound, too strong, too old.
    A silence hung like mourning’s shroud,
    And in its grip, my head was bowed.
    What secrets stirred within the stone,
    Were mine to carry, mine alone.

    The fleeting glimmer of what might,
    Lay far beyond my dimming sight.
    Yet still, I chased that phantom light,
    Through endless corridors of night.
    The taste of dreams, so near, so far,
    It was lost beneath a darkened star.
    And all that once seemed close, so clear,
    Became a distant echo near.

    In those long halls, where stillness crept,
    The shadows deepened as I wept.
    For what is longing but despair,
    A wish that dies upon the air?
    And though I sought with all my will,
    The void within grew immensely still.
    Each corner turned, each door I passed,
    Led further from the truth at last.

    And now, those fires once bright, once warm,
    Are cold, mere embers in the storm.
    The yearning that consumed my days,
    Fades slowly in the endless maze.
    No solace waits beyond this door,
    Only echoes, nothing more.
    And so, I wander, lost in thought,
    A ghost with longings left to fraught.

  • A Dark Dominion

    A Dark Dominion

    A dark dominion where shadows reigned,
    Unfurled its veil of relentless disdain.
    In that realm where existence was stark,
    Brutality’s mark ignited a ceaseless dark.

    The air was thick with cynical mirth,
    A tainted realm where violence gave birth.
    Each breath was a struggle, each hope a jest,
    In that domain where, brutality festered unrest.

    The walls bore scars of relentless abuse,
    In every crack, the screams were still seduced.
    The skies, once clear, now roiled and churned,
    Reflecting the torment for which it yearned.

    Cynicism sprawled like a creeping vine,
    Twisting and coiling with an endless malign.
    The soul, weary and bruised, bore the strain,
    Lost in a tempest of unending pain.

    Where the heart’s desire was but a fleeting ghost,
    And solace remained a fleeting, hollow boast.
    Existence was a cruel jest with no reprieve,
    In that gothic sphere, where dreams grieved.

    In shadows cast by a withering moon,
    The dirge of despair played a mournful tune.
    Each step in that domain was a stumble and fall,
    A relentless march through the endless pall.

    There, every glance was met with disdain,
    Each murmur had been a harbinger of further pain.
    Hope was a spectre, a phantom of the past,
    Lost in the void where shadows were cast.

    The darkness reigned with a suffocating weight,
    A grim reminder of existence’s cruel fate.
    And in that realm where the light was shunned,
    The soul remained lost, forever undone.

    So, in the heart of that desolate night,
    Where existence was a cruel and endless plight,
    Lingering in shadows, forever bound,
    In the dark dominion where despair was crowned.

    Amidst the gloom where suffering was embraced,
    Time blurred, and hope was forever erased.
    The darkness, a tyrant, claimed every breath,
    An eternal waltz with the spectres of death.

    There, in the depths of that forsaken vale,
    Salvation was sought, yet faltered and failed.
    In that dark dominion, bound tight,
    Ensnared in despair’s unending night.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Watcher In The Void

    The Watcher In The Void

    The watcher in the void exists beyond the reach of darkness and light. A shadow crawls—no, creeps—through cracks unseen, where time crumbles and whispers dissolve into nothingness. A hollow and vast eye looms through the endless darkness, constant and unblinking. The pulse of something unknown shudders through the air, a rhythm that defies reason. Has it begun? Will it ever end? The gaze of the watcher in the void pierces through the walls of sanity, unravelling the fabric of reality with a slow, deliberate stare.

    Breath lingers, suspended between worlds that will never merge. The air itself quivers as the void inhales thoughts, exhaling fragments of something twisted and dark. The ground shifts, a subtle tremor beneath unseen steps. Silence hums with tension, and the watcher in the void lingers just beyond the edge of perception. It watches—always watching—staring indefinitely at the infinite abyss of the universe.

    The void is endless—there is no beginning or end—only the infinite eye of the watcher in the void, which never closes and never tyres. Memories scatter like dust, ephemeral and insubstantial, fading into oblivion. Time loops in strange patterns, distorted, lost in the eternal gaze of something ancient, something incomprehensible.

    Echoes drift through the silence, faint and distorted, as if carried from a distant, forgotten realm. The watcher in the void is there, always present, with tendrils of existence coiling through unseen spaces, tightening, constricting, and squeezing until only fragments remain. The eye never wavers, never falters, holding everything in a relentless stare that knows no mercy.

    A scream fades into nothingness, consumed by the void, looping back into itself. The watcher in the void remembers all—every thought, every moment—caught in the never-ending cycle of its gaze. The void is eternal, and the watcher endures, bound to the emptiness, forever seeing, forever waiting. Nothing and no one can escape this lethal and cruel stare, not even the stars.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

  • The Abyss Of Forgotten Hopes

    The Abyss Of Forgotten Hopes

    The abyss of forgotten hopes allured with a voiceless scream,
    A vast infinite void where shadows reigned,
    Where forsaken desires decayed like bones,
    Crushed beneath the weight of time.

    Cracked mirrors reflected hollow eyes,
    Lost souls searched for what couldn’t be found.
    Their hands grasped at phantoms,
    Yearning for the warmth of life,
    Yet meeting only cold echoes of despair.

    In the garden of silence,
    Wilted flowers drank from poisoned wells.
    Memories, once vibrant, dissolved,
    Fading into a mist of oblivion,
    Where every step led to nowhere.

    The wind moaned through hollow trees,
    Carrying whispers of ancient grief.
    No one heard their lament,
    No one answered their call.
    Only the moon, pale and distant,
    Watched with indifference.

    Here, the hours blended into endless nights,
    A place untouched by morning’s light.
    Dreams rotted in forgotten corners,
    And nightmares rose like smoke
    From the ashes of yesterday’s fire.

    The void stretched wide,
    A maw that devoured all it touched.
    Those who wandered too close
    Were swallowed whole,
    Becoming echoes in the empty dark,
    Their stories were untold, their voices erased.

    In this land of shadows and sorrow,
    Only the void remained.

    Faint whispers lingered in the air,
    Threads of forgotten lives unravelling.
    They twisted and coiled around the bones of trees,
    Fading into the night like dying embers.
    Ghostly figures glided across the mist,
    Eyes vacant, hearts hollow.
    Each step left no trace behind,
    As if existence itself dissolved
    In the presence of the void.

    A fractured melody drifted from afar,
    A distant song, too broken to recall.
    It echoed off jagged cliffs,
    Waking ancient spirits from their sleep.
    They rose from the depths of the abyss of forgotten hopes,
    Moving like shadows through the fog,
    Their fingers brushed the edges of reality,
    Tearing the fabric of the world
    With unspoken despair.

    The stars above, once guiding lights,
    Fell like shards of shattered glass,
    Cutting through the sky with silent descent.
    Each one extinguished a forgotten hope,
    Buried in the black soil
    Of a world that no longer remembered
    What it meant to dream.

    In the endless mire,
    The earth yawned wide,
    Swallowing the last remnants of hope.
    The living and dead entwined
    In the dance of oblivion.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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